Secrecy of their magic
by I'mTheirQueen
Summary: Before the Statue of Wizarding Secrecy, witches and wizards were persecuted by muggles. There are those who use persecution at their advantage and others who will hide from it until it catches up to them. Along the way there decisions that will be made that will have consequences for centuries to come.


"I heard that her daughter made a pact with the devil, my Charles saw that girl bloom the wilting roses." Said a women of the village, who failed at attempt of discrete whispering of the woman in front of her.

Getting up from her squatting position, Marie pulled her washed clothes from the river into her basket and turned to leave. The women along the river decided that wasn't going to be the case as they all got up and followed behind her. The one who had previously spoken pulled at her causing her to fall backwards. As she reached for her basket another women kicked into the mud.

"Why are you leaving so soon Marie?" They laughed at her, as the leader Cateline picked up the clothes and doused them in the mud "Your clothes are still dirty."

Marie remained quiet, avoiding her gaze from the women " _Mes amis_ , I don't think shes sees so let me show you." And with that she picked up the dirty clothes and dragged it slowly across her face. "Now can you see, _sale pute._ "

Getting up, Cateline stepped on the rest of the clothes while the other women became quiet and surrounded the fallen woman. "Have you heard what they do to witches nowadays Marie? The priest was given the _Malleus Maleficarum_ and so far from I have been told you and your daughter fall into those categories." She smirked down at her before she spat her.

One by one the women of the town did the same before collecting their laundry and laughing as they made there way back to the town.

Marie had dealt with this before, the abuse of other women was nothing new nor were the threats. It was a life she had endured for the love she held for her daughter, one made of love and sin. She had prayed to God to help her in the man made hell she lived in with the constant persecution of her having a child out of wedlock. The names no longer bothered her, the _sale pute_ or dirty whore, was one that was already overused. But know they were threatening her daughter, accusing her of witchcraft and that was not something you could runaway from.

By the time she returned back to the village the day was coming to an end, there was barely any light left from the sun. She stopped in front of her little cottage and left the casket there, either way clothes wouldn't dry that day. Immediately she began to run to the center, tripping several times on her dress and unseen terrain of the night. By the time she arrived to her destination, she pounded on the door looking around in case anyone appeared. She quickly moved inside once the door opened, not bothering to curtsy in the presence of the priest.

"Marie what are you doing here?" his whisper echoed throughout the chapel as he followed her through the pews. Many of the women of village saw the priest as someone who had been blessed by the Lord, and they were not talking about his preaching. His skin was unblemished and his blue eyed shown with kindness. Unlike most of the men in the town his hair was not a mangled brown bush and unlike most men he was one that no one could have. He had lived in the town for over a decade, his kindness had helped the poor and the sinners. To everyone he was the perfect essence of a man devoted to the Church, but he was a man who also committed a grave sin.

He knelt next to her and gazed at the Tabernacle that was lit up the sanctuary lamp, "Marie you shouldn't be here, if anyone discovers-"

"Father Étienne it's been years since I have been called a whore, tonight would make no difference" She said before turning her gaze to him, her brown eyes full of sorrow that equally matched his, "I will always be the sinner in the eyes of everyone and you the saint so do not have to worry about your name or mine right now."

He swallowed and returned her stare, the red gleam gleam allowing them to observe one another closely without worry of anyone noticing, "Why are you here then?"

"The _Malleus Maleficarum_ , its here and I know the cruel nature of humanity will want to abuse for their advantage." She leaned closer to him and whispered, "So tell me Étienne do I fall into one of these categories since people say I slept with the devil."

"Yes" He whispered back averting his eyes from her until she laid her palm on his cheek to get his attention.

"And my daughter" She asked. "Does she fall into this as well since she is accused of doing magic."

"She does have magic." He answered. Marie paused and looked at him with confusion hurt before she pulled away and slapped him.

"No! You know that is not true! She would never make a pact with the devil." She screamed getting up before she was yanked back down by him and pulled against his chest.

"I know that, you know that." He said fiercely while holding her still, "But nobody else knows that, they want a scapegoat and people have found it. Magic is a curse and gift that she has been blessed with from the heavens. There is nothing we can do for her."

"Please Étienne for any of the love you once had for me, save our daughter." She said, tears spilling from her eyes, as she rested her head on his shoulder "Save our Hermione."


End file.
